RAINBOW SIX: Midas Touch
by Urbs
Summary: Even terrorism can be profitable.


Rainbow Six: Midas Touch  
  
Author's Note: RAINBOW and all its affiliated characters are property of Tom Clancy. (John Baur is my own creation) This story is based on the novel, not the game, which I believe to be more realistic.  
  
The "Padlock Security Company" was contracted by the World Market Mall just outside Zürich, Switzerland, to provide night time security. The recent switch to Euro-only trade put an additional strain on security with an average of 5,000 extra shoppers a day. A skeleton crew of the mall's own security would stay on for liability reasons, which translated into manning the main radio console and doing crossword puzzles. The patrolling was done by the rent-a-cops from Padlock.  
  
It was a normal Saturday night, with the crowds trying to extend shopping hours past 9pm. Most stores had closed their doors, and were tabulating the day's earnings. The Padlock men were just checking in. Each security officer carried an Italian Beretta 9mm pistol, loaded with a 15 round standard magazine of full metal jacket rounds. In practice this was more a measure of deterring crime than it was a practical combat firearm, though, for looking secure stopped more crime than actually being secure.  
  
* * *  
  
Johan Baür's cell phone rang. It was another technological innovation that had spread through Europe almost as fast as Capitalism. The air was saturated with electromagnetic waves from these devices, without regard to their possible carcinogenic effects. Ironic that Europeans exercised more than any other continent, but also smoked more, drank at younger ages, and fried their own brains with cell-phone induced cancer.  
  
Baür searched for a second, then found the button. "Hello?"  
  
"Herr Baür, we are in position." Good. It was not quite 10 o'clock, and the mall would probably be nearly empty.  
  
Baür turned around in his black leather swivel chair. "Good. Proceed."  
  
The cleaning woman overheard someone talking, and poked her head into Baür's office. He had stayed this late before, but it was not common. It was not her place to ask such a high executive his motives, so she simply withdrew and continued cleaning the surrounding offices.  
  
His office had a great view of all of Berlin – he could see where the Berlin Wall had stood. He was only a teen when it fell, and took advantage of the situation: while his parents were busy ripping concrete from its rebar foundation, he invited his girlfriend over and lost his virginity. That was only the fringe benefits of the fall, for he later used the new Capitalistic system to make fortunes.  
  
* * *  
  
Tim Noonan sat in the RAINBOW safe house, twisting dials and flipping switches. He tried listening in on the phone taps himself at first, but soon realized how limited his German skills were. Feldwebel Dieter Weber had the headphones on now, listening to the conversations in his native tongue.  
  
Two weeks ago the NSA had stepped up their surveillance in Switzerland, with the complete changeover to Euros. All was going well, except for a few interesting calls placed in the World Market Mall. There were several calls from various payphones and cell phones from within the mall, which they were able to obtain the information about. Each call was directed to a cellular phone owned by one Johan Wilhelm Baür, a rich Berlin businessman. It was strange that in a period of five days there were 22 calls to that number, each from a different source. This all only warranted moderate interest by the NSA until his background check came up: he had supposedly financed a terrorist operation in Berlin a few months ago, but no one could pin him as the mastermind.  
  
Team 1 was away in the Middle East, and Team 2, becoming restless from lack of field operations, shipped out the next day. That left Chavez and his team huddled in this Zürich condominium. It was spacious for a condo, as it could normally hold up to 10 people. Now, however, it took the ten members of Team 2, plus Noonan and a NSA officer Al Marinold. The space was extremely cramped between firearms and ammunition packed in their cases, Noonan and Marinold's technical gear, and the various necessities of clothing, food, and fine beer imported (duty-free) from Germany.  
  
Weber, sitting on the case for his own rifle, waved his hand, as if to motion "back". Noonan put the dial at its previous setting.  
  
"I'm not sure exactly what it was, it was very quick, but it sounded professional," Weber concluded. "Professional" meant it was someone who knows how to carry out a military-style operation.  
  
Noonan and Weber looked over at Ding, who sat on a box of 10mm MP-10 ammunition behind all the computer gear. Ding shrugged, then concluded, "Well, we don't know anything else yet, so keep listening." He motioned to Eddie Price, his XO, to get the troops ready.  
  
* * *  
  
Padlock not only ran the interior security, but also patrolled the parking lot in their own vehicles. It currently had four vans roaming the concrete plains outside the mall, each having a driver and passenger.  
  
The call came over the radio, "Time to go."  
  
* * *  
  
The mall's own security currently had two officers on duty, both of whom were in the radio control room. One sat reading a newspaper, while the other was brewing a pot of coffee.  
  
The steel door swung open, fast enough to slam into the adjacent wall. "Halt!" the intruder yelled.  
  
The men were so stunned they jumped. Both sets of eyes immediately spotted the man, carrying an Austrian AUG 5.56mm assault rifle. Immediately both men instinctively reached for the Beretta pistols at their sides, only to be shouted down by the gunman.  
  
In a second the officers regained voluntarily control of themselves, and slowly raised their hands above their heads. The gunman moved into the room, followed by two others, similarly equipped. The Beretta's were snatched away, and the security officers were led out of the room at gunpoint.  
  
* * *  
  
"Really? Well, that certainly is a stroke of good luck," Baür commented. He expected a few casualties, or at least to have shots exchanged, but the mall's security was immobilized without any difficulty.  
  
"I have disabled the security cameras, and the team is setting up the taps on the computers," the other voice on the line said.  
  
"Excellent. Tell me when you are finished." The cell phone beeped off.  
  
Baür's team was planting the software that was not so much a bug as it was a… controllable virus, Baür thought. He had designed the program himself: from his own laptop (and, because of the incredible encryption, only his laptop) he could monitor any monetary transactions on those computers, and also not allow any such transaction. The first power gave him an advantage in his investing, while the other, though not as covert, let him control over his investments. The program also let him edit transaction records, probably the most powerful tool of all, for he could easily shave numbers to his favor, earning him fortunes without anyone being any wiser. No store went through their credit card receipts that thoroughly, especially after everything balanced out when counting out at night.  
  
Baür stood and removed his jacket from the back of his chair. He folded it over his arm, picked up his briefcase and headed out. He flipped off the light and nodded to the night cleaning woman on his way to the elevator. 


End file.
